


William.

by bastian07



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Cute, Cute Kids, Stuttering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 09:50:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4055566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bastian07/pseuds/bastian07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The purple man is explored. Expect more eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	William.

Monday, 1200 military time. Opening hours.

Children poured in as your headache grew proportionally to the amount of kids screaming and yelling all around you, the animatronics coming to life and greeting them happily as they play and sing. You can't help but wonder how management managed to talk you into taking the day shift; a guard had been absent for a few days and they couldn't handle the potential loss of revenue. Your eardrums hurt as the symphony of screaming, laughter and shouting fills your head with pain.

As you overlook the restaurant, a single kid sits uncharacteristically silent, resting her head in her hands. Barely anyone pays attention to her as they zoom past her, not even the bots registering her presence. You gulp to yourself as you muster up your courage, walking over to her as she looks up and notices you. "H-Hey there, kid. W-Where are your p-parents?"

"I have no parents."

"W-What do you mean? Everyone's got a f-father and a mother."

"Not me."

"W-Why not?"

"Because I'm from the orphanage down the street. Only kids with no parents live there."

"Why aren't y-you down at the orphanage then?"

"I don't like it there. The other kids make fun of me and call me creepy." she says as she sighs deeply.

There's a pause as you feel tears begin pressuring your tear ducts; you know what life without family is like. You tell her to wait here, and walk hastily to the Employee's room. You re-emerge, your hands and pockets filled to the brim with crayons and paper. She spots you as you're walking over, her lips curving into a soft smile as you sit down beside her despite your shyness. You lay out the crayons and paper on the paper. "W-Who's your favourite mascot?"

"Bonnie." she says, picking up a purple crayon as she begins drawing, "Bonnie is my favourite. Because he's a bunny; I love bunnies." You smile at her, as you pick a black crayon and absentmindedly doodle. "What's yours?" she asks out of nowhere. You gulp and tense up, before answering her. "M-Mine's Bonnie too. We're old f-friends."

She finishes her drawing, a childish caricature of the giant purple robot. You smile and tell her how pretty her drawing is as she returns your smile. "You should draw Bonnie too, Mr."

You gulp, before agreeing as you grasp the black crayon in your hand, drawing an abyss-dark rabbit on your paper. She looks at it and laughs before speaking, "That looks nothing like Bonnie, silly." You smile, content without her knowing about your nightmares about the bot. "What's your name?" she asks, looking up at you with her head resting on her hand again.

"W-William. My n-name is William." you respond, your mind flashing back to the name tag on the uniform in your closet, a relic harbouring nothing but bad memories.

"Cool. My name is Connie." Connie. You like that name. You get lost in your thoughts as you look forward into space, until you're shaken out of it by your new friend.

"William? Are you alright?" she asks you, her question mirroring something that happened a long time ago in a lush jungle far away from home. You had just chucked a live grenade out of the trench you were in, as a tripwired bomb went off and knocked you on your back. You thought you were dead until you heard Sergeant Mark call out to you, your vision refocusing as you saw him offer his hand to you, asking if you wer- "William, please. You're scaring me." you hear as you snap out of it.

"S-Sorry. I got lost for a moment there, h-heh." you reply. "I-It's very forward, but have you ever wanted p-parents?"

Her face changes to a slight frown, her expression growing somber. "Yes. I'd sit on the edge of my bed when it came time for adoptions, hoping that someone would choose me. It hasn't happened, not yet at least."

You bite your lip again before answering, unsure of how to reply. "I-I'm sorry to hear that, Connie. I'm s-sure you'll get adopted very soon." you say, her head hanging slightly, not comforted by your words in the slightest. "H-How does a pizza sound? It's on m-me."

Her eyes light up, beaming up at you. "You'd do that? For me?"

"W-What kind of toppings?"

"Pepperoni and beef!"

"Wait h-here." you say as you stand up from the table, walking into the kitchen. You instruct the cook accordingly, watching over him to make sure that it's perfect. The pizza eventually finishes, and you thank the cook, pizza in hand. You open the door as Connie spots you, smiling from ear to ear in happiness. You wish all kids were like this.

You put the pizza down on the table, as she immediately grabs a piece and quickly devours it. You're willing to bet she doesn't get to eat very much, and let her feast for now. You're content just watching her eat, your jaded heart finally feeling something again, just like before you went to Vie- "Don't you want a piece, William?" she asks as she offers you a slice. You shake your head, explaining that you'd already ate. She shrugs, and resumes her eating.

You block out the sounds of the other kids, focusing your full attention on your new friend. You laugh and joke around, drawing silly mocking faces of each other on the paper, trying to see who can make the other look the dumbest. You're finally experiencing joy for once in a long time; you don't want this to end; you eventually look to your watch, the time signalling that it might be time for her to leave. "S-Shouldn't you head home soon? Don't they worry about y-you?"

She chews the last piece of pizza down as she replies, her face morphing to a disappointed expression. "I guess you're right. Good times don't last forever." she says as she wipes her mouth and stands up. You don't bother following her, watching her walk to the exit. She opens the door and looks over her shoulder, before speaking. "Will I see you tomorrow, William?"

"Y-Yeah. Of course, C-Connie." She smiles and finally leaves, and you find yourself sitting idly at the table as you stare out the glass door for the better part of an hour, before finally getting up and clearing the table.

\------

Monday, 2334 military time. Apartment.

You're glued to the television as you go over today's events, rubbing your temples as you wonder what you've got yourself into as you look over to the pouring rain outside your window. You get up from your recliner, looking out to the street blow. You notice someone standing underneath a nearby tree, but you can't really make out who it is. Not that you care, to be honest.

You turn around and look to the doorway to your kitchen, a battle-worn soldier standing there hunched over with bloody gashes and bullet wounds across his body, looking up to you with half a face as parts of his cheek droop and drool phantom blood, staining your carpet. You remember this guy, you shot him off your buddy with your Kel-Tec in the Vietcong infested jungles. His face coated your fellow soldier's jacket in crimson as you blasted him, and you remember not thinking as you offered your hand to your friend, even though he'd already been kill- You shake yourself out of your memory, and walk towards your kitchen, forcibly pushing him out of the way as he grunts in pain before disappearing into thin air.

You walk over to the cupboard above the sink, opening it and pulling out a small bottle full of pills. You read the prescription on it which says to take two pills. You empty six into your hand as you dry swallow them all, before making your rounds turning everything off. You finally sneak into your bed before you feel the pills setting in, a figure appearing in your doorway as your vision fades.

\-------

Tuesday, 1204 military time. Opening hours.

You sit down by the table as today's first wave of children mob through the gates, laughing and yelling in joy as the robots play with them like the day before. You hold your head in your hands as you stare at the door, hoping that she'll come back. Your hope is rewarded as she nervously steps through the entrance, looking around as she spots you and smiles, beelining directly for you. "H-How goes?" you ask her as she settles down next to you.

"The priest was angry with me for leaving the orphanage. He scolded me and made me do the dishes, which took me a long time."

"T-That's terrible. Kids s-shouldn't have to do the adult's work." you reply, "What do you f-feel like eating today?"

"I'm not very hungry right now. Can I just have something to drink, please?"

"S-Stay here." you say as you get up, going down the hallway towards the break room as a co-worker bumps shoulders with you. You look over your shoulder, apologizing as you see the familiar face of your dead sergeant for a split second, before his face returns to normal. You feel your headache intensify as you push open the door to the break room, reaching into the fridge to grab a cold soda. The room is dark and unnerving, it almost feels like you're being watched. You waste no time and leave the room immediately.

You plop the soda down on the table as you reseat, pulling out a bottle opener and popping the soda loudly, offering it to Connie. She wraps her hands in her sleeves as she gratefully takes it, the cold too much for her small hands. "Thank you, William." she says, making a small blush work its way over your cheeks. She takes long gulps of the soda, slowly arching it into the air as she finishes the entire thing in one sip. She lets out a content sigh as she wipes her lip with her sleeve.

You grab hold of a waiter, asking for some fries and dipping. She swiftly returns with a giant plate full of potato goodness, and you find yourself more attached to Connie as you talk about various topics, until there's an inevitable pause. "Can I come with you?"

"W-What?"

"Can't I live with you? I don't want to go back to the orphanage."

"I d-don't know, it's so sudden... My a-apartment isn't big enough."

"I don't mind sleeping on the floor! The bigger children always steal my bed and force me to sleep in the hallway because they don't want "to be murdered in their sleep"."

You run your hand over your face, thinking of the possibilities. You've lost one daughter before due to not being there to protect her. You couldn't risk the same, not again. "N-No, you can't come live with me. I don't w-want to see you hurt."

She immediately pounces onto you, hugging you tightly around your stomach as tears well up in her eyes. "No! I can't go back, I won't let go until you promise me!" Her touch immediately brings you back to several years ago, the day of your enlistment. You'd wished your wife goodbye as your little runt came running, jumping into your arms and squeezing you just as tight as you're being squeezed now. She had said the same thing, "I won't let go until you promise me!" You had promised her that when you'd come back safely and you'd take her to the theme park and buy her the biggest bunny available. Nothing had prepared you for the white child sized chalk outline in her bedroom upon your return.

"Y-You remind me of my daughter, heh." you chuckle, your own eyes tearing up slightly at remembering the repressed memory.

"...You have a daughter already? Is that why you don't want me?" she sniffles at you, but doesn't let go of your waist.

"I had a daughter... S-She's gone now."

"Where did she go?"

"Some place f-far away. I'm not sure. Y-You remind me of her; you're just as stubborn." you tell her as you bite your lip to stop yourself from sobbing.

She hugs her face into your shirt, and says muffledly through it, "I'm sorry, William."

"W-What for?"

"I didn't mean to talk about your daughter."

"It's okay, d-don't worry about it." you say as you stroke her hair reassuringly, her grip around your waist loosening up slightly. You feel your frozen heart finally beat with an ounce of emotion for the first time in years. You two sit there for a while, until you grab her gently by the chin as you tilt her head upwards towards you. "I'll do my best, C-Connie. I'll try." Her mouth opens wide before changing to a massive smile, hugging herself into your shirt as she thanks you over and over.

She sniffles as she lets go of you, your shirt stained wet with tears. You wipe your eyes as you instruct for her to wait, walking to get the drawing peripherals from yesterday. You return eagerly, putting all of them down as you both paint for hours, her ability easily overshadowing yours. No matter, you're happy for the first time in your life as you gleefully poke fun with her while you both occasionally eat from the huge plate in front of you. Fries have never been this tasty.

Eventually the fun has to stop for today, and you walk her to the exit as you squat down to her level. She immediately launches into a heartfelt hug, and plants a smooch on your cheek as she runs out the door. You rub your cheek as you stand back up, laughing lightly to yourself. Just what have you got yourself into?

\--------  
Tuesday, 2246 military time. Apartment.

You're cleaning the dishes as you hear footsteps behind you. You look over your shoulder, seeing Sergeant Mark standing there with his guts hanging out of the knife wound on his stomach. "You don't look well, Will." he says to you.

"That's strange, I-I am well. Better than I've b-been in years, actually." you smile to yourself as you finish wiping your plate, and putting it into the cupboard.

"Do you remember Vietnam? Do you remember watching as a gook cut into my stomach? Do you remember leaving me to die in enemy territory, knowing I'd never see my loved ones again? Knowing full well that my corpse would be mutilated before being used as manure for their ricefields?" he asks you accusingly.

"Y-You can't blame me for your death, Mark. He charged from a t-tiny burrow, I'd have to have shot through you to hit h-him. You know damn well I-I'd never take the shot." Mark grunts in retaliation, obviously frustrated at your logic.

"I died in vain in some rotten jungle, William! You left me to become stew ingredients like the coward you are!" You turn around, angry at his accusation as you shout your reply.

"I ran because we were stormed from all sides, and YOU died due to your own inability to pay attention! YOU died because you fucked up, not me!" You look around the kitchen nervously, a plate lying broken on the floor and with Mark nowhere in sight. You sigh deeply, the constant day terrors that bother you starting to become more and more alive to you. You throw out the broken plate and finish up the dishes as you open up the cupboard, pulling out the bottle of pills like yesterday.

You dump ten pills in your hand, downing them with a glass of water. Damn that piece of shit, you thought to yourself as you turn off all of the lights and go to sleep.

\------

Wednesday 0925 military time. Orphanage.

You parked your van as you finally reached the place, looking toward the gothic looking orphanage, the building looking more like it was taken off a movie set than a place where people live. You pull the handbrake and take off your seatbelt as you leave and lock your van, walking up to the front door. You knock a few times with the door clapper, waiting patiently. For once in a very long time, you shaved your beard and dressed in your purple suit, looking quite dapper if you had to say so yourself.

The door creaks open slowly as a tall priest with glasses emerges in the crack of the door, looking you up and down before opening the door. "Mr. Hansen, I presume?" you nod your head to him, and he nods back, beckoning you inside. The door closes behind you as you look upon the great hall, the stairs in the middle of the room leading up to the upper floors. "Please follow me, Mr." he says as he begins walking toward the staircase. You hastily follow behind him as you're brought up to the second floor, and through a door into a homely office. He sits down behind the desk in the middle, and asks you to sit as well.

He takes his glasses off and begins polishing them, talking as he does. "I have to say, Mr. Hansen. I didn't expect a call about a possible adoption today. It's been a dry spell lately, it seems like couples just don't want to adopt people any more; it's a shame." he says as he finishes wiping the glasses, putting them back on his face. "Did you bring all of the documents I asked of you?"

"Y-Yes, here." you reply as you hand him the folder full of your records.

He starts sifting through them, stopping every now and then to fine comb the details. "Ah, you're a veteran. Your service is most honourable."

"T-Thanks."

A few minutes pass as he reads all of your documents before packing them neatly back into your folder and handing it back to you. "All seems well on your end, Mr. Hansen. I've just got one little question: Why do you want to adopt?"

You gulp before answering, feeling your eyes strain inside your skull. "U-Uh, I-I had a daughter. Once."

The pastor bites his lower lip at your answer. "My condolences. I didn't mean to pry."

"It's alright, F-Father."

"Well, we've got many children here, so why don't you take a look around while I sort out the necessary documents? The bedrooms are straight ahead when you leave my office." You nod to him, rising out of the chair and out of the office, gently closing the door behind you. You peer over as you hear children laugh, and you can't resist smiling to yourself as you lounge your way over there, hands in your pockets. You enter the doorway and look around, seeing beds upon beds stacked neatly against each other.

Your presence is most definitely noticed, as every child has sat down on their bed, and are now waiting silently. You slowly scan the room as you walk down the middle of it, looking to every side for Connie. Each child is apprehensive of you, your stare apparently enough to make them avoid eye contact. You eventually get to the end of the room, and turn around on the spot, looking broadly across the barracks. You muster up all of the confidence in your body in an attempt to suppress your speech impediment.

You clear your throat, and calmly ask into the room. "Where's Connie?" Two girls come up to face you, none of them the Connie you're looking for. "Surely someone is missing?" you ask again, the entire room bickering a bunch of no's and shaking their heads in unison. The room grows silent as you stand there for a few seconds, until you hear rustling coming from a closet to your right. The door handle is blocked by a wooden chair, no doubt the work of the insufferable brats.

You scowl to the rest of the kids, who all look down at the floor as your gaze creeps over them. You walk over to the rustling closet, slowly removing the chair as Connie bursts out of there, landing face first on the floor. She sits up slowly, several small bruises on her face as she wipes a few tears from her face. She looks at your feet and then up to your face, tears slowly streaming down her face as she recognizes you. "You came," she says, sniffling," you actually came for me."

You smile, squatting down and offering her your hand. She gently places her hand on yours, and you grab her by her side as you stand up, hugging her to your torso as you feel the warmth of her skin through your suit. She sobs lightly into your shoulder as you stroke her hair, mirroring the movements from yesterday. Holding her like that, you walk slowly towards the room's exit, scowling at every kid you pass them. You hear Connie blowing raspberries through her tears at them, and you can't resist a chuckle as you walk back to the priest's office.

You sit down, Connie still held tightly to your chest. The pastor goes through routine questions, such as "Are you financially stable enough to care for a child?", "Are you emotionally capable of caring for a child?" Soon the interrogation is over, and he conjures up an adoption form. You let Connie fill out her own entries, before signing it as William V. Hansen. The priest and you stand up to give each other a handshake, and he wishes both of you best of luck.

You and Connie leave the office, closing the door behind you. You put Connie down and reach for her hand, which she gladly takes in hers as you both walk out of the orphanage. You instruct Connie to enter the passenger seat, and once she's belted in and comfortable, you start the van and drive away.

"What happens now?"

"W-We go home. Our home."

\----

Wednesday, 2122 military time. Apartment.

It had been a productive day. You introduced Connie to her new home, promising her your bed until you had enough money to buy her one of her own. She was grateful it seemed; the orphanage must not have had very good beds, for it was not long until she was sleeping like a rock. You planted a kiss on her forehead as you closed the door to your room behind you. You look up in time for your smile to fade from your face as Mark faces you in the living room. "Who's your new friend?"

"N-None of your business." you reply as he laughs heartily.

"None of my business? When did we grow so far apart, Will? Or should I say Vance?"

"Don't call m-me that."

"Oh? Why not, Will? What does that name remind you of?"

"V-Vietnam."

"Ah, I see. Perhaps it's something you'd rather forget? Am I treading a little too close to home for ya', Vance?" You feel your blood boil, clenching your fist in anger.

"I t-told you to stop calling me that."

"Vance các gặt đập trắng! The great scourge of the Vietnamese! A name revered in all towns that meant anything in Vietnam. What an honour it must've been to get so much recog-" you interrupt his sentence as you fly forward, punching your fist into the wall, breaking off part of the plaster as blood flows from your torn knuckles. You breathe heavily as you scan the room, Mark seemingly gone once again.

You calm yourself, walking to the bathroom and grabbing your first aid kit along the way. You wash your wound and bandage your hand, putting the first aid kit back on top of your fridge. You throw yourself on your couch and turn on the TV, watching a sitcom you'd been following until you fall asleep, forgetting to take your pills.


End file.
